Dribble Drabble
by Nalana
Summary: A collection of HP drabbles and short oneshots under 1000 words written for contests at The Hideaway. link inside. Will contain multiple genres, pairings, and themes.
1. Flowers

Disclaimer for story: I do not own the Harry Potter characters. They belong to a very rich woman named Rowling.

These drabbles and shorter stories are all done for contests at The Hideaway, http://thaelixir. . It's a great place so come check us out!

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The first time he had paid no attention. The youngest Weasley male had been scarfing down his breakfast, oblivious to the irritated owl beside him. It wasn't until a white-tipped feather of the Bard owl fell on his plate that he turned to see a neatly tied bouquet of Sweet Williams. 

Ron picked up the card only to see a lack of a signature. What was written did manage to make him look quite ill. Uncomfortable he tossed them into the floor of the Great Hall. The second day it was Bachelor's Buttons. The third day, when the assorted roses arrived, Neville offered him the traditional meanings of the flowers. Ron panicked. The gifts had caused more then one whoop from the Slytherin table. Wasn't a guy getting flowers embarrassing enough?

"I swear," he declared, "If it's Malfoy I—"Ron's words were stopped as a rather sullen Hufflepuff approached him.

"Mr. Wea-I mean, uh, Ron." The boy fidgeted. " I know you don't know me, but, I was…was wondering if… if…" Ron's eyes widened with terror. "If you knew why Ginny wasn't keeping the flowers I've been sending her."

Ron could have sworn the entire table became an outburst of laughter.


	2. At Wits End

Perched in her seat so prim and divine

While murky brown eyes stab into mine

She scoffs and snarls, her doubt shining bright

Fate, destiny, luck it's all a sham

She says with much confidence to spare

That poor fickle child I breathe out loud

Withered is her mind so full of facts

Firm and strict unable to see it

The wonders of foresight never hers

Her spirit's sealed tight, away from all.

Still I speak of marvels yet to come

Hoping the energies will shine through

And persuade even those still resigned.

Shove her negativity away

And let those sensitive flourish here.

Until at last I refurbish her

To sweet innocence and clarity

The nectar of most wonderful Sight

Else to the day I can take no more

And shove that brat down the tower stair.


	3. Happy Birthday

A/N: this particular drabble came in 1st place, April 2007.

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Mrs. Diggory watched as the yellow and clear contents of the shell spilled into the batter below. Tossing the remnants of the shell away she began stirring. She watched the flakes of dry ingredients slowly become dampened. Eventually a brown concoction sat smooth in the bottom of the bowl.

Ever since Cedric was little, Mrs. Diggory had taken up the tradition of making a cake muggle-style with him on his birthday. No matter how busy they were, they'd find the time. If he were away on that day it would be the first thing they did when he returned. As she slid the batter into the borough oven alone her heartstrings grew taut.

She would never be able to do this with him again. She'd never see him try to sneak a lick of the batter. He wouldn't smudge her face with it. She'd declare another frosting war. She'd never see him take the first welcomed bite into the warm dessert.

Regardless, she'd continue with this practice. When it was done, she'd take the cake to his premature resting place. She'd smear a little frosting on the marker, and in the wind and wafting smell hear his laughter once more.


	4. Headline

"WHAT have you told her?" Hermione screeched under her breath as she read the newspaper on her lap.

"You haven't been feeling good lately, so Harry took you to Pomfrey during Potions?" Ron repeated haphazardly before leaning over and whispering to the Gryffindor table that Snape could make anyone sick.

"RONALD WEASLEY HOW CAN YOU BE SO DAFT?!" She screeched as she stood up. When she flung the Daily Prophet into Ron's lap up, his face started to match his hair.

Across the front page read another scandal headline. _Triwizard Champion's Fourth Puzzle: Who's the father?_ Ron squeaked.

"Hermione Granger had to withdraw from her lessons yesterday due to a case of repeated illness that closely resembles morning sickness. Harry Potter reportedly tenderly escorted Ms. Granger to receive help despite her recent affairs with Mr. Krum, a fellow Champion. The status of the couple's shattered relationship is now unknown though sources…" Ron stopped reading and buried his head.

"If I EVER get my hands on that slimy Skeeter!" Hermione slammed her fist into the table.

"Who?" Harry asked oblivious to the tabloids as he approached the table to see Hermione cursing paper and Ron compulsively whimpering. "Did I miss something?"


	5. Packing

Fresh wax dripped down the candlesticks lining the window. With nibble fingers, Bill Weasley pinched out the remaining flickering flame. In the remaining conquered illumination he swept around the room he shared with his brother.

A crunching alerted the Hogwarts graduate to another presence. Charlie stood in the doorframe munching on an apple. Avoiding the flurry of items being tossed into the bottomless case the younger of the two simply observed.

"Egypt, huh? How did you talk Mum into supporting that one?"

"'Wasn't too hard." Bill pushed a few stray pieces of his hair back before folding his arms behind his head. "I'm under oath to 'check in' via owl every two weeks 'less I want a howler sent my way. 'Sides. Pay's good."

Charlie smirked before taking a similar stance. He looked crookedly towards his brother. Though two years apart the two had been as inseparable as twins. The younger of the two's heart sank at the thought of the countries that would separate them when Bill started his job with Grigotts.

"There are predecessors of my favorite dragons there. Maybe I'll get to visit after graduation?" Charlie suggested, his expression reeking of remorse despite his brother's following enthusiasm.


	6. Listen

She should have listened to the air around her. She should have closed her eyes and taken the chance of letting logic breeze past her. If for one moment she had felt the tension vibrating from the very ground beneath her feet she would have been able to sort this situation out. In this, lady Ravenclaw's sharp mind had failed to exceed the warning of natural instinct.

Rowena told herself that this was a childish tiff. Once the business behind the construction of their marvelous school was complete, she and her fellow founders would be able to return to themselves. She would be shaking her head at Helga as the plump woman chatted animatedly over a newly found recipe. Godric and Salazar would settle back by the fire and continue their epic battle of wizard's chess.

Life never proves so simple. The debate of enrollment parameters had only been the catalyst to cut previously frayed strings. Rowena's patience with her friends faltered slowly, unnoticeably, until the decades became pressed together.

Standing before one another, the founders faced the façade of friendship once forged. Silently they had committed to their own ways. Bathed in consented degradation Rowena vehemently regretted her deafness.


	7. Forget Me Not

"I had an owl once." Remus said as he admired Harry's Hedwig.

"What happened to it?"   
"I gave it a letter one day, and it never came back."

Chipped claws plunked heavily on the moldy floorboards beneath muddy paws. A deep growl resonated from the black dog's throat as an ancient owl came hopping after him, following him into the shrieking shack. Snorting at the bird the dog finally began to change form.

"Okay you malting menace! Out with it." Sirius Black snatched the well worn letter from the elderly bird's beak. His fingers trembled when he saw the writing.

"Moony" he whispered longingly as he traced his faded name before resuming dog form.

Padding across the bedroom he took temporary residence in, he lifted his front half to rest on a dust covered chair. He dropped the parchment onto the desk. Golden light from the sunrise flooded through the broken windows casting down onto the Animagus and his surroundings. The light bounced onto a antique vase holding long dried flowers.

A petal from the vase flickered past a photo of two canines onto the unopened letter. These memories would stay sealed away. Long passed words should remain silent.


	8. Curses

Coughs broke through the rumbling echo that filled the dust infested tunnels as the heavy mud barrier at last gave way. A stream of light burst from the tip of a wand, spreading out to created a translucent film that fit the exposed opening. Moments after a hiss turned into a shattering POP as florescent red and green sparks sprang forth. Hitting the magical barrier they promptly fizzled and died.

"Quick thinking, Weasley." A diamond sharp voice applauded as the debris cleared. A wiry man with sharp eyes stood up tall as he cast a proud glance at the young redhead behind him. "No wonder they sent you to me straight off!"

Bill Weasley, after only a year of serving the Grigotts main branch, was sent to be a part of a seasoned team headed to Egypt. The local curse breakers had come up against a formidable series of ancient enchantments. Now that he was here, the excitement and awe imposed by the land around him had tinkled away when the dangers of his profession began to sink in. The adrenaline from the experiences before him were arousing and humbling all at the same time.

"Thank you, sir." Bill said to his supervisor.

"Alright!" The expedition leader yelled behind him to the small crew in his presence. "We've now passed further then any other team. But don't whoop and yell yet. We still have the worst ahead of us. So keep your eyes sharp." A chorus of recognition sounded.

"Weasley." The sharp voice stopped Bill as he stepped forward. "This last trap is going to be a dozy if recordings can be trusted. I want you to be the one assisting me with It.."

Bill's eyes widened at the suggestion. This tunnel they were in was supposed to be a gateway to a precious medicinal growth hidden away since it was gobbled up in its discovery. Teams had been trying for months to unlock the way to it, all failing. Most of them had come back with horrible injuries. His heart pumped furiously.

The team stopped when they came to large barrier. Ancient Egyptian wizards had been known to mingle with muggles. They adapted most of their creations to look commonplace as not to alert others to their traps. Copper, corroded green from aging, stood as the base was heavily imprinted with flowered gold vines.. Nearly all apparent traces of magic had been obliterated.

"The leaves." Bill observed. "The remaining magical pressure is focused most sharply on the leaves. This would indicate both the source of the trap and the code. Given the spread of the points it's probably only split magic, or many people could even begin to open this. Whatever it is… It won't be pretty if we mess this one up."

"Right." The leader agreed. "You heard him. I want everyone else to step back. Partha, I want you to be prepared to create a shield for the others just in case this goes wrong. Jonas, I want you to back her up. The rest of you watch and learn."

Along side of his on-site trainer Bill worked to figure out the trick. The leader beat him to it. Bill had been right in one of his assumptions. It was going to take seven of the twelve leaves to be activated. Using the logic gained in his arithmancy classes and the style of the past obstacles in the tunnel they devised an activation sequence and the proper spell to use. Or, at least they hoped they did.

"Ready?" Bill nodded to the question put to him. With a deep breath and the count of three they shouted their spells towards each designated leaf. The jet of energy sizzled as they hit their targets.

The leaves retracted and with a heavy rumbling the rock began to dissolve. The others on standby cheered. Their excitement was premature.

From the hole a coiled creature sprang forward. It leaped with incandescent claws towards the project leader. Without blinking Bill lunged forward with a displacement spell on his lips. The animal's claws caught onto Bill's arm making the man hiss and cling his steaming appendage but not in vain. The magically conjured beast howled in pain as the workers behind them cast vanquishing words.

Bill leaned heavily against the closest wall. He could hear the man he protected speak to him. Then came the black.

"Your awake." The room slowly came into focus as Bill opened his eyes. Above him stood the leader and his teammates.

"You're lucky it didn't hit you straight on. You had us worried. I owe you one, Weasley. I would have been a goner," said the leader.

"Did you find them?" Bill asked.

"Sure did! They-" the leader chuckled as Bill dozed back to sleep.


	9. The Intern

The tenuous tapping of high-class low style heels against the gravel alerted the crowd of her arrival. Before the Montrose Magpies stood a heavily powdered woman with a large stack of blonde hair piled atop her head. The woman simply reeked of perfumes and oils.

One of the team members snickered. Another elbowed them swiftly as the woman pointedly looked at her watch. Whispers of disproval the new reporter remained hush.

The woman glanced over at them from the brim of her glasses, lifting her camera. A puff of smoke encompassed team letting them know she had done the first part of her job.

"If you'll all go over there, I'll begin the interviews." A quick-quotes quill appeared in the photographer's hand.

As the team wearily trudged to the interview area, the reporter pulled out her wand to get a preview of the picture she had taken. A snake grin crawled onto her face. The seeker's arm had been around the beater.

"Oh now THIS is interesting!" She beamed. "Just they wait to see the secrets I dig up."

"I'll prove to the paper I'm not just an intern! Oh Rita, you've got it now!" She gloated to herself.


	10. Gift

It wasn't much, "Moaning" Myrtle thought to herself as she peeped over the top of her favorite stall. Moments ago there had been scuffled footsteps, a distinctive plopping, and the squealing of shoes as the figure retreated. By the time the ghost drifted up to see what had interrupted her brooding she saw something she hadn't quite expected.

Gliding over to an abandoned cardboard box she examined it. The box had clearly seen better days it's edges bent and wrinkled. The top flaps were ajar, but the contents remained shrouded. On the left short flap her full name was scrawled.

Someone researched me?

Myrtle wrinkled her nose. Even if there were something in it she wouldn't be able to grab an object. Still she dipped her hands in. She gasped as her hand touched something. Gingerly she wrapped her digits around it, a sensation she had nearly forgotten. Carefully raising it, she saw two beady eyes loom slowly back up at her.

"Mew?" a curious sound left her present's mouth. In her hands was the pale shape of another ghost of feline affinity.

Myrtle sank to a low hover cuddling the kitten. Joy swelled within her throat. At last, company.


End file.
